Cold
by Ravyntree
Summary: (to be announced)
1. 1

:Dib:

There just weren't a whole lot of Living humans left. Most were either dead or worse, Dead. Me? I'm Dead.

It's not all bad. I have friends and eats and places to hang out. Although a few of my friends turned into eats. And at the places I hang out, too, so there's some bad memories.

But enough about that. Let's talk about now.

I'm just wandering around town, trying to find some food.

It's getting dark out, so I should probably head for home. But something is going on around the corner, and it smells tempting and dangerous. What's life without a little danger?

Better judgment tells me to leave off, but I'm curious and Hungry.

I round the corner quietly and stop, frowning (at least I think I'm frowning) at the sight. Three humans have another cornered. The small, youngish man is obviously injured, and they seem intent on killing him. It doesn't seem right, so I step forward with a proactive grunt.

The three oppressive males turn quickly to look and the younger takes his opportunity, darting forward to sink a broken shard of glass into the calf of one man. The human cries and turns back to him sharply but trips himself up and falls. I take a bullet from one of the other humans, which is okay, I've already been shot today so no big deal. They are soon caught between me and the young man, and one decides to hoof it. Apparently a young adult and a young adult zombie are just too much to handle at once.

The other hesitates to take another shot at me before following.

I watch them go before looking to the young man. He doesn't look too good, and sure enough he collapses beside the now-dead human.

Well, fresh meat anyway.

I step over to him slowly and crouch down, but pause. The blood leaking from him is green. I tilt my head and touch my fingers to it, bringing it to my nose curiously. Smells strange.

On a whim, I scoop the man up and carry him home. Take-out?

:Zim:

I open my eyes to bright sunlight shining into my face. I blink and try to move and that's when the pain explodes white and red across my vision. A pathetic sound escapes my lips and I sink back to where I rest, sliding a hand across my chest. Something sharp sticks my fingers and I flinch, lifting my head to see. Pale grey eyes meet mine and I gasp, sitting up quickly and scrambling back until my PAK hits solid wall.

The zombie tilts his head and sits back, watching me. I glance around and realize we are in a human airplane. Such a primitive way of travel, but they had the right idea anyways. I look down and feel a pang of panic that my disguise has failed. Not that it matters much, here with this ghoul. Who's he going to tell?

I look up at him again and he's still just sitting, watching me. Why am I here? Take-out?


	2. Two

:Dib:

He is interesting, and not terribly edible, though I'm sure I could eat him if I wanted to.

He isn't human. But neither am I, not really, and I think maybe that's why I brought him here.

Whatever the reason, he's here now and if I let him out he'll become a meal for the Bonies for sure. They've been hanging around my home for a few weeks now. I think its because they sense I'm different, and they don't like it. I'm not fond of it either but it is what it is.

He hasn't moved from where I put him except to vomit on the seat in front of him and to squirm uncomfortably. He needs medical attention, but I know nothing about bodies except how to dismantle them. I don't think that'll help him.

I've brought him canned food that I've collected over the years, but he didn't take any of it, nor any of the bottled water. I wonder if he eats meat? I need to eat soon, so perhaps I will bring him some.

I think he's sleeping, though is breathing is irregular so perhaps not. I hope he doesn't die. I like him. He is interesting. But he needs help.

:Zim:

It hurts.. I don't really remember how it happened anymore. Something about glass, and an explosion and gunshots and human shouts and blood blood blood. Mostly mine, also their's. I.. I tried to steal some of their food? They had fruit. Canned fruit. I could smell the juices from outside. So sweet.. And I didn't get any.

That zombie.. Is he still here? I can't smell him. Just my own sickness and blood. I can't get the glass out. I wish I had gotten some fruit. I guess the humans decided I wasn't worth it once that ghoul showed up. They ran.. That one man died and they ran. Why did he die? I stabbed him.. I stabbed him and.. And slit his throat as he fell. Yes, I remember that. Such a nasty smell. I'm sick. I'm really sick. I need help.


	3. 3

:Dib:

I drape a blanket over him carefully, as he is shivering. Maybe he's cold. I don't get cold anymore, I just am.

I turn to leave, but he makes a small sound and I pause to look back at him. He doesn't repeat it so I take my leave. I need to hunt. It's been three days now.

:Zim:

I listen to him leave and decide its time to do the same. I need to move, to get out of here before he finally kills me, or turns me into one of them.

It's been three days, and I'm feeling slightly more aware now. Still hurts, and I still haven't attempted to remove the glass shard yet. But I was able to pick the bits from my face and arms, so my systems were able to start fighting the infections. This planet is filthy, though surprisingly it seems to be getting slightly less so now that their numbers have decreased. Especially their vehicular traffic and pollution.

I sit up slowly, shrugging off the blanket the strange ghoul gave me. My chest moans at me to stop, but I manage to get my feet to the floor and sit up. I look towards the back of the plane, then turn in the seat to peer out the window.

A few of them are wandering around outside, and several of the Very Dead are gathered beneath one of the nearby plane's wings. Damn. I look around the plane, eyes scanning the collected debris for some kind of weapon.

But wait. This isn't debris. Its… human artifacts. Trinkets and shelf items. I get to my feet carefully and cross the aisle to look at a few of the things arranged carefully on the seat. Toys and books, dvds and tools. All placed so carefully and thoughtfully to make a masterfully-made piece of collective-crap art. Interesting. Maybe this ghoul misses being human.

But humans, Dead or Living, are all the same to me, one just slightly more dangerous than the other and all distasteful and useless.

I make my way towards the front of the plane slowly, picking up a large rusted wrench as I go.

Just as I reach the bathroom, the door to the plane opens and I quickly duck into the tiny room. I hold the wrench up and still my breath.

:Dib:

I step into the plane, carefully closing and locking the door behind me, and turn to look for the alien. I don't see him, so I start shuffling down the aisle to see that he's alright.

Something collides with the back of my head and I fall forward, dropping the cans I held.

:Zim:

I step forward and bring the wrench down into his lower back. One of the cans catches my eye and I hesitate, antennae twitching at the scent I know is inside.

:Dib:

I turn onto my side slowly and reach to pick up one of the cans. I hold it up to the alien, looking at his red eyes in hopes that perhaps he won't kill me just yet. There's much I'd like to learn before I die for good.

:Zim:

I tilt my head slightly and start to swing the wrench again, but the offer of the can is too tempting and I snatch it from his hand before backing away quickly. I pop the tab open and quickly use my claws to scoop out the sweet orange slices. I keep my eyes on the zombie as I eat, growling when he moves to sit up. I finish the can swiftly and toss it down while backing towards the door. The ghoul looks around quickly and picks up another can, holding it out to me. I stare at him, stopping.


End file.
